CSI: Case Of The Missing Hall Of Famer
by jtbwriter
Summary: Grissom tackles his toughest case yet: honoring a childhood hero.With thanks to my sister, who is a diehard Cubs fan, and dedicated to “Coach”, who inspires young and old alike, on and off the diamond.
1. Chapter 1

CSI: Case of the Missing Hall Of Famer

Grissom tackles his toughest case yet: honoring a childhood hero.

With thanks to my sister, who is a die-hard Cubs fan, and dedicated to "Coach" , who inspires young and old alike, on and off the diamond.

A/N: "CSI" and its characters are owned by Jerry Bruckheimer and CBS, and no money will be made off of them. All other characters are fictional representations and any resemblance to real or imagined people is in the eye of the reader. And…if you believe "this old Cub" should be in the Hall of Fame, write the Veterans Committee c/o Major League Baseball!

"Grissom….Grissom…GIL!"

Gil Grissom looked up from his crossword puzzle, and calmly looked at his old friend, impatiently standing in the office doorway.

"I heard you the first time, Jim….what's up?"

Brass sighed and handed him a folded paper. "Normally I wouldn't interrupt the Puzzle master, but did you look at the Sports section before you gave it to me?"

Grissom quirked an eyebrow at him. "No, I usually read it with my coffee at break time, why?"

"Oh, just a little item the Times buried on page two again….seems we can solve the most gruesome murder, hear 14 soldiers die overseas, but digging up eight votes?" Brass shook his head, then turned and started out the door.

"You're kidding me!" At the intensity of the scientist's voice, Brass whirled around.

There in front of him was a slowly purpling Grissom, his hands tightly grasping the now-crumpled newsprint.

"Eight votes? Coach missed out by eight votes? What were they thinking? Do they want the man to die before he gets in?"

"Griss….I have something to…oh, hey Brass." At the sound of Sara's voice, Grissom took a deep breath and tried to calm down. In front of him was the only other person who would understand his anger. Now Sara wore a perplexed frown that only deepened when she spied the newspaper in his hands.

"Uh, Jim….did you tell Grissom what you spotted today?" she asked, then sighed when he nodded. "Sorry Sara, I didn't think he'd get that worked up.."

"Okay, Jim…stop talking as if I'm not here…..but thanks." He said, trying to leaven his words with a faint grin.

"You're welcome, just ….do something about it, will you?" Brass mumbled, then put his hand on Sara's shoulder as he left the room. "Sorry, hon."

"It's okay-catch you later." Sara replied, then waited until the detective had moved down the hall before coming in and closing the door behind her.

"Sara". Grissom got up from his desk and met her halfway with one of his hugs. Sara wrapped her arms around him in turn, then whispered, "I'm sorry, I wanted to tell you before you read it….it's not right."

"Thank you, honey….I knew you'd understand. Eight votes. I can't believe it."

"Well, at least the Cubs honored him, even if baseball won't." Sara replied comfortingly. Just then there was a knock on the door, and Grissom reluctantly released her from his embrace. "Come in."

Catherine stuck her head in to find Sara holding a file and Grissom standing behind his desk. "Oh, give it up, Gil…hey, Sara."

"Hey. What's up?" Sara nonchalantly gazed back at the redhead. Catherine smirked at her.

"Assignments in five, you two..and Gil, fix your collar…Ecklie's hanging around, I don't want to field any complaints about "inappropriate behavior".

"Aye, aye, Captain." Grissom retorted, the twinkle in his eye the only sign of levity on his face. Catherine snorted, then withdrew, clicking the door shut.

"Sometimes she carries the "you should have told me" bit too far, Gris." Sara grumbled, then smiled when Grissom leaned over the desk and kissed her. "Better then Conrad." he told her.

"Remind me of that later…." She sighed.

Exactly five minutes later, the nightshift sat listening at Catherine as she read the latest memo regarding vacation time and sick leave. Coming to the end of the night's announcements, Catherine looked over the paper and fixed Grissom with a baleful look.

"Gil, Conrad brought it to my attention you have eight weeks of vacation time saved… Since the sheriff doesn't want the image of being a "slave driver", Conrad said you are on vacation for two weeks, starting tonight."

"Excuse me, Catherine, but I wasn't aware that Conrad was in charge of my personal life…." Grissom replied tersely. Next to him Sara nudged his leg, and he subsided as Catherine shook her head.

"Your own fault, Gil….and he does have the power to make you take time off if he thinks you need it. I'm the one who has to change the schedule around…."

"Oh, well, then you have to remember to schedule someone from dayshift for my vacation, Catherine." Sara broke in smoothly. Grissom suddenly got her drift, and fought back a smile.

"Vacation?" the nightshift supervisor stared blankly as Sara matched her gaze with one of her own. "Yes, I put in a request for two weeks off starting tomorrow sometime ago…I know I have a copy of it somewhere…."

"Are you sure….I don't remember…when was the last time you had any time off…oh…" Catherine shut up as soon as she remembered the six weeks Sara was laid up earlier in the year. Glancing at her vacation tally, she realized Sara had ten weeks saved up.

"Okay…it looks like you're off tomorrow…I'll send out a memo. In the meantime, you can go through Gris's paperwork with him before he leaves. Nicky, you have a 419 behind the Lux, Rick, follow up with Al about your Slots suicide, and Greg..you're with me…major accident on Mountain in back of the Palace."

Greg immediately bounced up from his chair. "I got dibs on driving!": Nick and Warrick looked at each other and laughed as Catherine wearily held out the car keys.

"All right, but no rap…I get enough of that at home."

As she turned back around to say something to Grissom, she found five empty chairs staring back at her.

"Well, you wanted to be in charge." She told herself, then an arm came around her waist and she brightened.

"Last one back makes breakfast." Warrick's silky voice murmured in her ear, then was gone.

Back in the hallway, two CSI's observed the moment, then grinned at each other.

"You go on ahead and plan your attack, I'll finish our paperwork and meet you at home." Sara suggested, then smiled as Grissom whispered, "I'll be waiting…with breakfast in bed."

"Sweet talker". She returned, then sauntered down the hall. Grissom's eyes followed her until she turned the corner, then he shook himself mentally.

"First my investigation, then my reward…." He decided with a grin, then headed back to his office. He had a few calls to Chicago to make.


	2. Chapter 2

"Yes, I'll hold." Grissom took a bite of pancake, then smiled as Sara reached over and dabbed his chin.

"Messy."

"Hmm, then why don't I share…." He teased, then took her lips in his, tasting butter and coffee. Just then the other party came back on the line.

"Your reservations are confirmed, Mr. Grissom. 2 round trip airfares to O'Hare, three nights at the Field Inn, with the Wrigley tour and tickets for two games. Will you be needing a rental?"

Bemused, Grissom shook his head. "No, just the airport shuttle round trip..and the L tickets …"

As he finished his phone call, Sara handed him a slightly sticky file. "That's a good plan, Gris…somebody needs to wake up that bunch of …"

"SOB's…? Well, that's what they call themselves…ever since the Commissioner's office delegated veterans to be voted on by the Senior Old-timers Bureau, they've fouled up the selections every time." Grissom replied, frustrated.

"Well, with ESPN and the Commissioner in town, maybe they'll get the idea." Sara spoke soothingly, and was rewarded with another bite of pancake.

"If not, we still have four days in Chicago…." Grissom replied, following up with a kiss.

"Hmmm, and two weeks with no Ecklie." She added dreamily.

Twenty-four hours later, Sara flopped happily into a patio chair on the hotel balcony, while a smiling Grissom tipped the bellman and shut the door.

"Come out here, Gris…just feel this cool air…" she beckoned, then squealed with surprise as he scooped her up from the chair, then took her seat and placed her on his lap.

"Now…isn't that better?" he smirked, then indulged in a long kiss.

"Mmmmm, I could get used to taking vacations if they're like..mmmm, this." Sara replied. Grissom stroked her face with his hand.

"Then this is what we're going to do from now on, honey. I never want to see you sad, or tired or lonely again. I'm just sorry I took so long…" Sara stopped him by putting her fingers to his lips.

"You were worth waiting for, Gris….and so was this.." she kissed him back. "No more regrets…"

"Yes, dear." He answered, then took a deep breath. Already he felt better, and more at ease. Now it was time to do the right thing for the one who had helped inspire him.

As if reading his mind, Sara put her head against his chest. "When was the first time you saw him play?"

"1969, I think…Leo the Lip was the manager… When all my friends were rooting for the Dodgers, I was wearing my Cubs cap… That was also the first year I had the guts to go out for a team. I was scrawny and always afraid my glasses would get broken, but when I stepped on to that field…I was a player. I always figured with the fight Coach put up, if he could do it, I could do it."

"Then we will. At least we would have tried." Sara met his gaze, then smiled as he stood up with her in his arms. "What are you doing?"

"Well, the game isn't until tomorrow…so before dinner I thought we could try something else." Grissom chuckled as she put her arms around his neck.

"I'm game."

The next day Grissom felt he was in heaven. Awakening with Sara in his arms, the cool spring morning allowing them to wear their Cubs jackets out to breakfast, then the VIP tour of Wrigley itself…no vacation had ever made him feel this good.

As they took turns peering out from the vintage scoreboard out to the perfectly green outfield grass, he mentally ticked off the arrangements he and Sara had made for the game that afternoon. A group of his friends had gotten tickets in the same area behind the Cubs dugout where he and Sara were. Already bearing in hand a part of Grissom's plan, two of his college buddies had passed a note to the television booth so the announcers would be aware of the special "presentation" planned for after the seventh inning stretch.

"Hey, Gris…time to move along." Sara nudged him, then took his arm as the group went down the narrow corridor. At the end of the tour, Grissom waited until Sara was busy reading the plaques along the gift shop wall, then he snuck over to the jewelry counter and bought her a little silver and blue "Cubs" pendant. Hiding the gift bag in his jacket pocket, he caught up with her as she shifted her tired feet.

"Ready for lunch? We have plenty of time before we have to get to our seats."

"Yes, thank you, Gris…" she beamed at him, then blushed as he kissed her.

"Careful, or else I'll think you were hungry for something else." Sara teased.

"Try me tonight…." He grinned.

All through lunch, Grissom kept looking at his watch, hoping his friends would show up. Scarcely had he and Sara finished and headed toward the field boxes, when several voices hollered "Gil! Hey, Gris!"

Sara turned around to see fifteen or sixteen men, most of them middle-aged, converging on the two of them.

"Hey, Connor….Mugs…look at you, Paul!" Grissom shook hands and hugged then pulled forward a suddenly shy Sara and introduced her.

"Guys, this is Sara, my girlfriend…Sara, these are…" he began, the n the tallest man, named Paul, interrupted him.

"The lucky men who finally get to meet Gil's Sara. My dear, we have heard so much about you…."

Tears had to be blinked away quickly as Sara realized the depth of friendship Gris had with these men. _"Close enough to know what he felt…no wonder I love him."_

"And that goes for me too, Gris has talked so much about his friends…" she exclaimed, exchanging hugs then settling down in Grissom's embrace as the group finally wound down enough to take their seats.

Once settled, Sara shucked her jacket as Grissom passed out his "presentation", then sat back with scorecard and pen in hand as word was relayed around the section, then the stadium of a special "surprise".

"I hope he likes it.." Grissom said as the game started, and Sara knew whom he was speaking about. "I think he'll be happy that so many people want to say thank you."

She replied, taking his hand in hers and squeezing it.

"Well, I want to say thank you to you for helping, properly." He smiled nervously, then pulled out the little Cubs gift bag. "I, uh, hope you like it."

"Oh, Gris…you didn't have to…" Sara opened the package, then beamed at the little silver "Cubs" cap with the "C" set in blue stones." "Thank you, thank you so much!"

"You're welcome…yes!" Grissom jumped to his feet as the popular first basemen doubled down the line. Sara let out a whistle, and Grissom's friends laughed at her enthusiasm.

As the game progressed, he grew nervous, particularly as the side screens showed the Commissioner chatting with the ESPN announcer between innings. "I hope he gets the message" Sara said as the sixth inning ended. Grissom's friend Paul leaned across her.

"I hope the head frog gets it too…what a wuss." At that Grissom snorted.

"Too bad the Olympic guy doesn't run for Commissioner again." The short guy called Connor remarked, then snickered as Paul shot back, "You don't run for Commissioner, they have to retire or get fired …then the owners select you."

"No wonder Coach wasn't voted in….eight.."

"I know, I know..eight votes!" Paul repeated. Just then Grissom announced, "Okay, one more out…ready?"

"Mugs" laughed. "I was born ready, Gris…" As the Cards recorded the last out, one of the radio announcers spoke through the Public Address system.

"Folks, we have a very special salute to one of our own that will take place after we sing, "Take Me Out To The Ball Game"…a one, a two, a three…"

As everyone began to sing, Grissom pulled a 8 by 11 card out of his file folder, then sang along with everyone until "For it's one, two, three strikes…"

"Now!" he yelled, and as the last notes of the song ended….flipped the card over and held it up in unison with his friends. Sara giggled as she too held up her card.

All around the stadium, fans craned their necks as the makeshift card section spelled out

"COACH BELONGS IN HALL". At once the chant began.

"Coach belongs in the hall, Coach belongs in the hall…"

Sara started to laugh, as Grissom chuckled. "This crowd is smart, they filled in the "The"!"

"Coach belongs in the Hall!" the crowd got louder and louder, then finally a hand waving a cap emerged from the radio booth, and the players and crowd cheered.

"We did it, Gris!" Sara yelled excitedly, hugging him. At once Grissom felt the last of his anger at the SOB vote melt…what his inspiration had given him was so much more, and so was the presence of **his** Sara. "We did it, indeed." He replied, then kissed her.

In the afterglow of the moment, the Cubs rallied and scored the go-ahead run, then the inning ended. Suddenly bedlam ensued as an usher came down the aisle, questioning each ticket holder in the rows above them. All around Grissom, his friends looked nervously at him, until Paul voiced what they were thinking.

"Did we violate some rule or something?" At that Gris shook his head. "There's nothing about rooting for a Cub with a sign being wrong."

"Excuse me, sir? Are you the gentleman who staged the "Coach" salute?" A smiling college-age usher peered over Paul and looked at Grissom.

"Yes, I am." He replied, meeting his gaze calmly.

"Here, this is for you." The usher handed him a note, then quickly said, "Thank you, that was great!"

"You're welcome." Grissom nodded at him, then stared at the folded piece of paper in his hand.

"Open it, Gris…what does it say?" Sara finally asked. Without hesitation, he opened the paper, then let out a deep breath.

"This makes it all worth it." He murmured, then burst out with a wide grin as he showed the note to her.

"Thank you…that meant a lot. You Cub fans are the best."

"He didn't sign it." Connor rumbled from his side.

Grissom looked up at him, his eyes twinkling.

"He didn't have to."

Fin


End file.
